The Mission Song

I've been a big fan of John Le Carré for some time. But not all of his post-Cold War stand alone novels do it for me. He comes across as an angry old progressive in some, preachy and downright cranky in others. But The Mission Song is among the best of these later works. Salvo Bruno is a half-Congolese, half-Irish master of languages working as a freelance linguist and translator in 2006 London. His mixed heritage and unlikely personal history (his father was a wayward priest-missionary and his mother a tribal princess; he was born and raised in the Eastern Congo and acquired the fundamentals of multiple tribal obscure languages plus Swahili and French before coming to the UK as an orphaned ward of a Roman Catholic religious order) give him a unique insight into the African and European worlds he traverses in his work. His marriage to white London reporter Penelope is strained and he begins an affair with a pretty Congolese nurse named Hannah. This arrangement "awakens" him to his African heritage and he becomes sympathetic to the various Congo political causes that Hannah embraces. Bruno is also a part-time spook hired by (one presumes) MI6 or one of the UK's signals intelligence organizations for occasional special work targeting the African language groups he has mastered. During one of these operations he discovers a plot to create a separate state in Eastern Congo, a plot funded and masterminded by several nefarious characters who have public reputations in the UK for their benign concern for the poor and exploited people's of Southern Africa. Le Carré has captured an aspect of intelligence operations of which I am all too familiar having played the game myself in the 80s, 90s, and early 2000s. The events, schemes and characters depicted in this novel are spot-on, as is the way the novel ends--somewhat predictably given the path taken by the protagonist two-thirds of the way in but still a pleasure to watch -- like a slow-motion train wreck. Le Carré's prose is so pitch perfect throughout. It's a brilliant read. And given that Le Carré has been "out of the business" since the 60s, the realism captured by this novel tells me that Le Carré was still on top of his game in the research department when this was published in 2006. The novel's only real weakness is its first third, written as a confessional in first person, that comes across as a bad fiction writing by a new writer. It's hard to read... but as it picks up pace and you realize Le Carré is writing this way on purpose--because the protagonist is the new writer and is writing a confessional with more telling than showing at it's start. So if you start this and quit (as I did the first time) because it's tough to read at first blush, press on. It's just a part of the fictional package. Le Carré captures the dilemma of the post-modern, post-Cold War intelligence, low-intensity military operations, money-chasing NGO shenanigans, uber-capitalism, and dark ops world perfectly here -- better than any other writer I have seen. So, if you don't mind peeling back the public face of the 21st Century globalist-do-gooder-venture capitalist-virtue-signaling-pro-democracy-human-rights-military-interventionist industrial complex and staring into its darkest, most soul-searing secrets, then I highly recommend The Mission Song.

"The Mission Song" is a great book, somewhat along the same lines as "The Tailor of Panama". John le Carré depicts the harsh reality of some of the human species' least admirable traits, presenting them as seen through the eyes of loveable but misguided and idealistic individuals. And despite the tragedy of the situation he maintains a positive and often humorous tone. I was planning on writing a full review of "The Mission Song", but after reading the wonderful review by Philip Caputo of the Washington Post (see above under Editorial Reviews), I figured that it would make more sense to simply recommend that review. "... corporate giants that know no boundaries, moral or geographical", remarks Mr. Caputo, and he's hit the nail on the head. One wonders sometimes of our future, when all of the raw materials have been plundered and the environment destroyed. I do have a few remarks about the audio version of "The Mission Song", read by David Oyelowo, a British actor of Nigerian descent. When I started listening to this book I was thinking, "what a poor reader, it sounds like he's half-asleep!" Very dull and almost monotone, especially at the very beginning. It turns out that this was an intentional technique. Bruno "Salvo" Salvador tells the story in the first person, and at one point he remarks that he is proud that he has made his English as characterless as possible, so nobody will think he's trying to sound upper-class or as if he belongs to any particular group of Englishmen. Furthermore, once you get to the end of the story you realize that there is a good reason why Salvo tells the story in a rather tired and depressed voice. But the amazing thing about David Oyelowo's reading is the dialog. As soon as anybody other than Salvo is talking he comes alive, and his rendering of the many African and English dialects is fantastic. I was totally blown away listening to The Mwangaza telling of his dreams for the Congo. Here's where a good audio book is far better than the printed version. In summary, "The Mission Song", like "The Tailor of Panama" (also highly recommended), is not a spy story. It is a story about human character and how we humans create our own tragedy, and the optimistic attitude we need to survive this truth. We end up thinking, "Good luck, Salvo", and good luck to us all. Rennie Petersen

Among his numerous authorial attributes John Le Carre also has the ability to create affecting, unforgettable protagonists - add Bruno Salvador, known as Salvo, to that list. Born "the accidental son" of an Irish Catholic missionary and a teenage Congolese woman, he was consigned as a baby to the care of Carmelite nuns. Shortly after, his mother decided that three months of the nuns' tough love were more than enough for her, so she escaped "at dead of night by way of the bath-house roof." She returned to her family all of whom were soon killed by an enemy tribe. Life, merely existing was a challenge for Salvo but he gained an education at a mission school and later, with the help of his mentor, Brother Michael, learned how to be a professional interpreter in minority African languages. As our story opens he is in England, married to Penelope, an upper class white woman and a star reporter on a major newspaper. It was not a match made in heaven as "Illegitimate sons-in-law of mixed race do not merge naturally into the social fabric of wealthy Surrey, and Penelope's parents were no exception to this time-honoured truism." Penelope is often busy, tracking a lead story, too busy it seems to Salvo. That's not the case with Hannah, a lovely, sympathetic Congolese. Salvo is pleased when he's assigned to translate at a top secret conference between leaders in the Congo and a mining syndicate. It is here that he learns of the machinations and politicking that go on in closed door sessions. He realizes that the information he has gleaned could mean further disaster for the country of his birth. But, what can he do? The Mission Song is a captivating story written by a master. It is rich in achingly lovely pictures of Africa and chilling in descriptions of torture. His characters are unforgettable, etched in our minds by the pen of an author who, as someone has said, "raised the contemporary spy novel to the level of fine literature." - Gail Cooke

I almost gave up on Le Carre after "Absolute Friends." To me, that book was little more than a political screed; one that might better have been trimmed down to two or three pages and submitted to the author's opinion journal of choice. Instead, he bogged down what might have been a compelling op-ed piece with all manner of extraneous characters, plot details, and the like. Those merely detracted from the unrelated, main purpose of the book. But as someone who has read every word Le Carre has ever published in book form, I couldn't resist buying Mission Song. I'm glad I did. Le Carre does not hide his political views in Mission Song, but they are not the book's reason for existing, either. Mission Song truly is Le Carre at his best -- this work stands comparison with the "Quest for Karla" trilogy and "A Small Town in Germany." I have long thought that Le Carre, on his worst day, was considerably better than anyone else who has ever written novels involving intrigue and espionage. This book, though, is Le Carre at his best, and therefor a novel that transcends any genre. Bravo to the author, and welcome back!

The Mission Song may be destined to be one of le Carre's best. Tightly written with terrific characters, logical story development, and a plot that keeps you guessing, The Mission Song will make you glad you spent the time to read it. Bruno Salvadore (Salvo to his friends) is a believable character who is sympathetic on one page and exasperating on the other. Born in Africa of a Congolese mother and Irish priest father he was educated in a private school and early on shows a talent for languages. He eventually ends up in England, married, and working a regular job using his skills as a linguist but also works for the British Secret Service. He ends up overhearing a conversation that he would have been better advised to ignore and therein lies his problem. The story is an examination of the plight of Africa and its people. Controlled by small minded local politicians or criminally insane warlords, the continent is rich in minerals and other raw materials. It is the exploitation of these resources by a fictional syndicate that drives the story. Wonderfully paced the story is economically crafted with no wasted parts. My favorite le Carre novel has to be The Spy Who Came In From the Cold with Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Spy a close second. The Mission Song is a fitting continuation of a literary career that spans more than three decades. You'll be glad you read this book.

John Le Carre has returned to his study of human nature and the corruption of organized governments and multinational corporations. The looting of the Congo during a conference in London is somewhat similiar to his theme of exploitation by pharmaceuticals companies in "The Constant Gardener." The author has written a "talking" thriller as opposed to Hollywood's action thrillers. His "hero", Bruno Salvador, has an unusual family history and flaws of his own. Choices need to be taken by all involved on whether they will sell their souls and therein lies the pleasure of this novel.